A woman sleeps on an islandand from her hair is born the dwelling placeof memories and wild birds.Her body is a figurehead,and they say that sinceshe fell asleep on the islandshe seems to have been touched by the rainsof madness, that her hair blossoms each eveningnext to the music of the sea. Others sayher eyelids trace maps of strange geographies,savage tattoos kept only in the tenuouscircle of her dreams.

A woman sleeps on an islandand stops being herself,free now of the land.She sails and drinksthe vastness of the sea.Seeds fill her floating hair;she is an islandsurrounded by stars.

- A Woman Sleeps on an Island by Marjorie Agosín, translated by Cola Franzen